


Sugar Cube

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, but not NOT shippy, not that shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21554566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "Bear with me, this takes some set-up. Has anyone read the Hogfather by Terry Pratchett? One concept in it that I couldn’t stop thinking about was that for some of the really old, and often really dark magic, it requires a piece of the target to cast.A piece. Like… oh, a tooth, for example.Which makes a lot of sense to me with Pitch’s actions in the movies, and the weirdly fast rate that children lost belief. What I’m after is Pitch realizing what power he could have over Jack with Jack’s teeth and messing around with his mind and memories.Like reverting him to the Jack before he fell through the ice and feeding off his fear as he wonders why his hair’s white and who’s this creep with the questionable dress-sense. Or forcing him to re-live his death. Or warping him into the kind of Jack who would join him. And then bringing him back to normal so he can see what he was doing.If there is sex, I would prefer it be without mind-altered Jack, just focussed on the leftover feeling or possibility of it happening again, and fear/guilt.Bonus points for the sexualization of Pitch feeding off his fear."The thing in Pitch’s mouth may be small and white, but it isn’t a sugar cube.
Relationships: Jack Frost/Pitch Black
Kudos: 18
Collections: Blackice Short Fics





	Sugar Cube

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 10/5/2013.

_You were so very afraid, weren’t you?_  
  
The object he rolled around in his mouth was white and squarish, but it was pretty far from a sugar cube. He sucked on it as if it was candy anyway.  
  
When a particularly sharp shock shot to his brain, he shivered with delight and worked his tongue over all the crenelations of the molar to make sure he got all of it. When it was gone, he knew he would have to wait a bit for the next fear-filled memory, so he reclined in the globe, pushing Jack’s tooth between his own, holding it between his gum and cheek, and balancing it on his lips. By the time Jack had lost this one, he’d begun to be beset by more adult worries, so it stayed sweet between the moments in which Jack was immediately afraid.  
  
It was much better than the earlier incisors, and Pitch was glad he’d gone through them all in order. He held the tooth under his tongue and chuckled softly. Even if he wasn’t doing this with a specific goal in mind, it would still be delightful. Unraveling memory after memory, releasing the glorious rich fears of childhood (fears that were always there, of course, no matter what the Guardians tried to do about it, no matter if they let him feed on them or not)—this indulgence was one he hadn’t known would be so…satisfying.  
  
If they ever ask, they probably won’t believe him, but he didn’t have a plan beyond damaging belief in Tooth when he stole the teeth and fairies (who have observed his treatment of Jack’s teeth over the past several hours with a peculiar mixture of disbelief, horror, and, amusingly, desire, that doesn’t exactly incline him to stop). It was only when he had felt the fear radiating out of them that he realized they held a source of what he needed. One box had held fear that seemed especially strong and potent, a child’s fear aged over centuries. And since Tooth only kept the teeth of the living, he had determined quickly that they were Jack’s teeth.  
  
And now? Pitch smiles as he worries the tooth with his tongue once more. Each tooth held a series of memories—earliest memories in the first tooth lost, and so on. And this one, the last of Jack’s—it was going to hold his memory of his own death. Pitch feels his pulse quicken in anticipation. The fear of death—fulfilled. If he wasn’t careful, he would end up putting on more of a show for the fairies than he had anticipated.   
  
And it wasn’t just the fear. From what he could interpret of the fairies, when memories were activated, the person they belonged to felt the emotions contained within them, depending on what the person activating them focused on. Jack must have been inexplicably afraid _all day_. This last would be simply awful for him.   
  
A moment of unpalatable happiness began to give way to the fear for someone else. Fragments of a scene on a snowy lake flashed before Pitch’s eyes, and he hummed as the fear began to build. Oh, but it was powerful. He greedily sucked it down, only vaguely wondering if the next person to see the memories would even be able to feel the fear in them.  
  


* * *

  
  
With the last taste of Jack’s childhood fears lingering on his tongue, Pitch heard the boy himself enter his lair. Well, he might as well tempt him with his memories, Pitch thought. After all, they were no use to him now. He spat the spent molar into his hand and placed it back in the jeweled box.  
  
“Jack,” he called.


End file.
